


An Easy Choice

by Nisa



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attachment Is Forbidden, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Isn't it?, Jedi in love, Love Confessions, M/M, OTP of the Force
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:29:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25711387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nisa/pseuds/Nisa
Summary: Obi-Wan makes a choice and has to face the consequences. Anakin, of course, interferes.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 21
Kudos: 197





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [temple_mistress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/temple_mistress/gifts).



> Thank you for being with me through the good times and the bad times ❤️

Obi-Wan was a very bad man. Deep down, he had always suspected that, painfully aware on numerous occasions of his imperfections and flaws. Now it had merely risen to the surface in a time of crisis.

None of that was coming through his shields though as he was standing, arms crossed, on the bridge in front of a hologram of Mace Windu.

The image quality was far from satisfactory, yet Obi-Wan could see, for the first time in his life, something similar to excitement on the Jedi Master’s face. Obi-Wan did his best to steel himself against it.

“Are you telling me that you have captured Grievous?” Mace repeated for the second time already, as though the answer he knew he would get was sweet music to his ears.

“We have,” Obi-Wan confirmed.

“This is the best news in a long time, my friend. Congratulations! This means that the war is practically over. I will report to Master Yoda immediately.”

“Wait a moment.”

Despite all his determination, Obi-Wan had to brace himself for what he was going to say. He hadn’t expected any emotion from Mace, let alone pride and joy, so now it felt like he was even a worse person that he thought.

“They have captured Anakin and intend to kill him,” Obi-Wan’s voice broke a little at the image of Anakin, tortured and unconscious, that seemed now to be burned on the back of his eyelids.

Mace frowned.

“This is unfortunate.”

For a brief moment of insanity, Obi-Wan expected him to be if not as horrified as Obi-Wan himself was, but at least genuinely moved by the prospect of a fellow Jedi dying, just as he was moved by the news of their enemy’s capture. The moment passed and nothing happened.

“Every victory has a price to pay,” said Mace gravely, and his face was as impassive as when he was discussing tactics and strategies.

Something cold gripped Obi-Wan’s heart at these words. All of a sudden, the greater good of the Republic no longer bothered his deeply flawed soul.

“The Separatists offered to exchange Anakin for Grievous. I am on course to a rendezvous point with their ship,” Obi-Wan said blankly. 

There was a pause, and the image flickered.

“Pardon me?” Mace looked at him as if he heard a phrase in an unknown language.

“I have accepted the offer.”

Mace’s hologram seemed to visibly grow in size.

“You what? On behalf of the Jedi Council, I order you to bring Grievous here immediately.”

On any other occasion Obi-Wan might have been intimidated, but he just felt hollow.

“I am sorry, Mace,” he said, but he was not. He didn’t expect Mace to understand and so it was futile to try and explain.

“Master Kenobi, I forbid you to do that! You will be court-martialed!”

Now there was emotion again, but Obi-Wan didn’t care about that any more. In his mind, he could see with pitiless precision Anakin’s figure lying on the floor and the blood, rendered dark blue by the holo transmission, matting his hair.

“Then so I shall,” he said in an even voice, and waved the hologram off.

All the clones on the bridge seemed frozen, staring at him in the stunned silence, but he paid no attention to that, looking at the stars streaking past the viewing ports.

“Any orders, Sir?” asked Cody.

“Continue on course.”

Obi-Wan was a bad man – and he was going to aggravate it by becoming a war criminal, but in his heart he found no regret.

*

Reluctant to open his eyes, Anakin could sense the warm and soothing sunlight on his eyelids and it felt like a kiss. This association was odd but it didn’t feel wrong, and he smiled a little to himself. Being alive and not in pain was nice for a change. His mind was floating somewhere between reality and dream. The familiar smell of bacta and antiseptic enveloped him in a comforting way, and the sense of safety started to lull him back into sleep when a shuddering breath broke into it and made the cocoon tear. Anakin blinked hard against the too bright light.

“Hey, Snips!” he croaked in a voice that didn’t really sound like his.

Ahsoka was slumped on a chair by his side, biting her fingernail, a clearly distressed look on her face. Meeting his eyes, she straightened up in a second and sighed with relief.

“Master! Are you okay?”

Anakin looked around. His vision was unclear, his head groggy and he didn’t feel like moving a muscle. Apparently, he was drugged and the amount of painkillers in his system equaled the volume of his blood.

“Sure, I’m fine,” he said with a little slur and snorted, realizing that he sounded like Obi-Wan in a similar situation. Maybe all Masters had this infuriating habit in front of their Padawans. Or maybe he and his old Master were really starting to grow alike.

Ahsoka nodded, but none of her concern seemed to go away. Whether he was drugged or not, the Force never betrayed Anakin’s senses, and he could feel that she was frightened and shocked.

“Snips, what’s up?”

Ahsoka hesitated for a moment, then shook her head with a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Nothing! Master Luminara said you need to rest. Actually, she didn’t allow me to be here…” Ahsoka looked behind her shoulder, then back at Anakin, and hung her head low. “I heard them say they are going to take Master Obi-Wan to prison.”

Anakin sat up sharply and his vision swam.

“What the fuck?!” He took a deep breath fighting down nausea, and had to lie back, propping himself on an elbow. “What the hell happened, Snips?”

Anger, blazing white hot and pure, cleared his foggy mind as he listened to Ahsoka’s rendition of events. She didn’t hear much except that Master Windu said Master Kenobi was to be put on trial for treason. He had mentioned life imprisonment. She had seen armed guards escorting Obi-Wan to the Council Chambers before she ran to the Healers’ Wing and managed to sneak in after a couple of failed attempts.

“Do you think they will really do that?” she said, concluding her short story, her bottom lip quivering a little.

“Never gonna happen,” Anakin replied with grim determination.

He made another effort to sit up and had to take a couple of deep breaths. He hated his body for betraying him on the worst possible occasion, but had no time to focus on that. Instead, he concentrated on swinging his legs off the bed.

“Will you do me a favor, Snips, and find my clothes?”

Ahsoka’s eyes widened.

“Master, what are you doing? You are not supposed to…” 

“Okay then, I’ll go to the Council like this,” he gestured at the healers’ gown he was wearing and drew on the Force to help him to his feet. He had no idea what he was going to do, except that he was going to put things right and possibly Force-choke Windu if the situation required it.

*

During all his years at the Temple Anakin had never noticed that the Healers' Wing was such a long distance away from the Council Chambers. He could feel other Jedi staring at him, either because he was really intimidating in his wrath or because he was barefoot and in a healers’ gown. The large bacta patch on his head had loosened and part of it was falling over his eye. He tore off the annoying thing and kept looking straight ahead, teeth clenched, trying his best not to lose his focus. He wasn't certain he would get there if he lost his grip on the Force even for a second.

The crippling fear that the Council would sent Obi-Wan to prison before Anakin got there so he would never see his Master again accelerated his unsteady gait.

Relief washed over him when the chamber doors slid open and he saw Obi-Wan. Standing alone in the middle, arms crossed and his jaw set in a hard line, his Master was both defiant and defensive, surrounded by the Council members resembling vultures lying in wait to feast on their prey.

Greeted by a stunned silence, Anakin rushed to stand by his side as fast as his wobbly legs would let him.

" _Anakin_?!” Obi-Wan's eyebrows shot up to his hairline just as his voice rose to a high pitch. “What are you doing here?"

It was then that Anakin realized that he had no actual plan.

Windu's hard eyes were already on him, disapproving, as though measuring his sins against his good deeds and finding the balance tipped heavily towards the former. 

"We are in the middle of an interrogation, Skywalker, and you are not allowed to be here."

Thinking on his feet was a bit tricky when those feet threatened to give out.

"I have come to plead guilty."

Anakin hated how weak and hoarse his voice sounded, but now the Council’s attention shifted to him even more.

 _Fuck off and leave Obi-Wan alone_ , he thought with dark satisfaction.

He had forgotten, of course, that if someone was going to get in his way, it was Obi-Wan himself.

His Master shot Anakin a deeply worried look as though Anakin wasn't perfectly capable of taking care of himself and made a step to stand between him and Windu.

"Masters, Anakin has been severely concussed and undoubtedly is in no position to give sound evidence," Anakin heard him say in his best Negotiator's tone. "Obviously, he should not even be here and must return to the healers' care at once."

Obi-Wan could be so stubborn, especially when this was completely uncalled for. Gathering his strength, of which he hadn't much left, Anakin stumbled forward, too.

" _Masters_ ," he said, mimicking Obi-Wan but adding a sneer to the word. "You must hear me out."

Windu exchanged glances with other Council members and nodded.

"We will."

Anakin met his gaze and held it.

"I forced Obi-Wan to rescue me."

"You what?!" Obi-Wan spun around to face him, flabbergasted. "Masters, I trust you can see that this is the effect of drugs!"

Windu frowned, ignoring Obi-Wan, much to Anakin's relief.

"Explain yourself."

Anakin shifted his weight from one foot to another and fought against the urge to sit down on the floor.

"I... manipulated Obi-Wan into doing so by using the Force. Jedi mind trick, if you will. I coerced him into the belief that I’m too young to die."

He stole a glance at Obi-Wan, who was shaking his head in some kind of exasperated outrage.

“This is nonsense. You were not able to manipulate anyone. Masters, there are holograms showing Anakin's condition at the time of my negotiations with the Separatists.”

 _Oh please_ , Anakin thought, trying to make eye contact with the other man in vain. _Why do you have to make things so difficult?_

“What _you_ say is nonsense,” he raised his chin defiantly and waved the bacta patch in his hand for more emphasis, like a defeated enemy’s flag. “I am the most powerful Force user in the galaxy! I can do what I want!”

“Anakin, please!” Obi-Wan turned fully to him and gripped his forearms. It was nice to be steadied that way and Anakin leaned a little into his hold. Obi-Wan’s eyes were dark with concern. “Go back to Luminara.”

Before Anakin could respond, Obi-Wan turned his head to Windu, who looked like he was starting to have a splitting migraine, and said in a firm, _no-objections-are-accepted_ tone that Anakin was too familiar with:

“Masters, I assume full responsibility for my actions and I suggest we be over with this.”

Anakin closed his eyes briefly. The effect of the drugs was wearing off, making the wound in his head throb with pain. He had to do something quickly.

“I used our bond to force Obi-Wan to save me,” he said very loudly.

He could sense Obi-Wan’s shock as the older man let go of his arms. They had never discussed their bond specifically, but it had always been obvious that no one was supposed to know. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

“The bond,” Windu repeated darkly.

“Our training bond. No longer training though. So just the bond,” Anakin offered as an explanation. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Obi-Wan look down in embarrassment and quickly added: “It was my idea not to sever it, of course. But it has come in handy on many occasions. Like now, so I could use it to manipulate Obi-Wan like I did.”

“Handy,” repeated Windu. Anakin wondered if his migraine was causing some kind of speech impairment.

“Quite,” said Anakin with a shrug. “Whatever. Arrest me already if you have to.”

But Obi-Wan was interfering again. “Master Windu, may I suggest that the proper course of action would be sending me to prison and Anakin to the healers right away?”

Anakin felt like he was going to faint. He had no time or patience for that argument.

“Master,” he said pleadingly, “just shut up.”

Apparently, there was only so much drawing on the Force and his legs almost gave out, but Obi-Wan must have sensed it and was there in a split second, wrapping an arm around Anakin’s waist and firmly holding him to his own steady frame. Anakin let out a small grateful sigh and leaned into him fully, resisting the temptation to close his eyes.

Only Obi-Wan could be so wonderful and so infuriating at the same time, because already he was saying in his reserved and polite manner:

“Masters, I presume, given the circumstances, it is absolutely obvious that the person here who deserves punishment for his actions is…”

“…me.”

Windu snatched a glass of water and gulped it like it was Corellian rum.

“Since both of you admit to having committed treason, both should be sent to prison,” he announced in a voice that made Anakin ask himself if Windu had ever considered joining the dark side.

Master Yoda, who had been watching the entire scene in silence, cleared his throat. Maybe Anakin was becoming delirious, but he could have sworn that the old Master rolled his eyes.

“A way of solving this crisis only one I see,” Yoda said solemnly. “Back to the care of Master Unduli Skywalker must return. As for you, Master Kenobi, to you quarters go and mediate you will.”

“But Master!” Windu rose from his seat in indignation.

Yoda tapped his gimmer stick for emphasis. “Closed, this case is.”

Anakin’s knees were weak with relief. Obi-Wan was right there by his side, and no one was going to separate them. He swung an arm around Obi-Wan’s shoulders and grinned at him despite the pain he was now starting to feel everywhere. His old Master didn’t seem to find any of the situation funny, but Anakin could sense that he was relieved, too, even though that was mixed with worry and guilt. They could deal with that later.

Anakin was about to stick out his tongue at Windu, but Obi-Wan was already dragging him out of the Council Chamber. A murmur of disapproval was rising behind their backs. Anakin found he could not care less.


	2. Chapter 2

“I can’t make it to the healers,” Anakin said weakly when they reached the nearest crossing of corridors. Maybe this was the truth – since heroics were no longer needed on his part, his body was finally taking revenge on him. But even if he could, Luminara’s ward was the last place Anakin intended to return to – he just wanted to go home, lie down and bask in Obi-Wan’s presence even if it meant listening to his Master’s grumpy lectures on inappropriate behavior and careless attitude until dawn. “Our quarters are so much closer, Master.”

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to protest, but at that moment Ahsoka chimed in helpfully:

“Anakin is right! And don’t worry, I can fetch medication from Master Luminara right away.”

Anakin shot her a grateful look. Not only had she been waiting all this time right at the doors, she was now siding with him without any hesitation. _You’re a real friend, Snips_. From the pleased expression on her face, she must have got his mental message at once. She smiled mischievously and was gone in the opposite direction in a flash.

They didn’t speak all the way to their quarters, Anakin because he was too busy focusing on making the next step and Obi-Wan for some reason of his own - his shields were up, so Anakin could only try and guess what was going on from the troubled look on his face and the deep frown that crossed his forehead. But his hold was tight and secure, and it felt like Obi-Wan intended to never let go of him, which was all that Anakin needed.

He must have been really a mess because by the time they got to their quarters Ahsoka was already back from Luminara and waiting at the doors.

Being home had never felt so great. Anakin nearly fell down on the couch, closing his eyes, and swore to himself that he would never move a limb again. He could hear the murmur of Obi-Wan’s and Ahsoka’s voices but didn’t listen in particular to what they were saying, soaking up their luminous presence in the Force.

Obi-Wan started fixing bacta patches and administering hyposprays, and the gentle touch of his hands felt like a caress, so different from the inanimate cruelty of Dooku’s droids or clinical ministrations of Luminara’s staff. This reminded Anakin of the sunlight he had felt on his eyelids when he had first awoken, the one that had felt like a kiss, and this was not just a coincidence, because now he could remember that it was real, through all the darkness and pain that engulfed him he had felt it, Obi-Wan placing a feather-light kiss to his closed eyes, murmuring: _Hang on, my dear Anakin, you will be all right._

_My dear Anakin._

Anakin awoke with a start. 

He must have been asleep for quite some time because the room was darker now and Ahsoka was gone. He was covered with a blanket which faintly smelled of Ithorian vanilla, and Anakin sniffed at it like a dog, a silly smile on his face.

“Next time you pile up droids on your bed make sure they are not leaking oil,” he heard Obi-Wan say drily from the floor.

Obi-Wan was sitting cross-legged on a mat, undoubtedly following Yoda’s orders, but evidently failing at that. His face in the shadows was far from serene, and through the shields that were not so impenetrable now Anakin could sense self-loathing coming off him in waves. Oh, that was bad.

_You are the most wonderful person in the universe_. Before Anakin could think of how to put this idea into words to make Obi-Wan actually believe it, the other man rose swiftly and was kneeling by his side with that anxious and affectionate expression that Anakin was starting to enjoy too much. But there should have been some benefits to being tortured, after all.

“Are you all right? Do you need anything?”

Anakin reached out from beneath the blanket and took Obi-Wan’s hand. Obi-Wan’s warm fingers wrapped around his momentarily. This was a subconscious gesture and almost too small to notice, but somehow it made Anakin’s heart skip a beat, which had nothing to do with his damaged condition or Luminara’s drugs.

“Thank you for saving my life,” he said, hoping that all of his gratitude would come through in the Force. 

Obi-Wan smiled ruefully.

“What choice did I have?”

Anakin was sharply aware of the choice, and he knew that so was Obi-Wan.

“Master,” he said attempting at sounding casual. “You know it’s not a big deal, right?”

“Do you mean your unfortunate fondness for droids?”

Anakin met his eyes and held his gaze.

“No. Grievous. We can capture him together, and everything will be all right.”

Obi-Wan snatched his hand and turned away. There it was, the confusion, the guilt spreading like poison in the wound, but strangely, no regret.

“To use your own words, this is a very big deal, Anakin,” he said with quiet desperation. “I have committed treason. And worse…” Obi-Wan looked like he was being tortured from within. “I would do the same again without thinking if I had to.”

Deep down, Anakin had always known that, so he wasn’t really surprised. But having Obi-Wan actually say it out loud in a half-strangled voice, having him admit that Anakin was far more important than anything, the duty, the glory, the Jedi Council, the tactical advantage in the war – that was overwhelming. That sounded like a love confession and even more. Anakin’s eyes became very hot and his throat constricted.

“I would do the same for you, Master,” he choked out.

This was his kind of a love confession, and he prayed to the Force to make Obi-Wan see it. But these words only seemed to cause Obi-Wan more pain.

“This is precisely why attachment is forbidden,” Obi-Wan said bitterly and rose to his feet. “If you don’t need anything, I’ll go to my room and write a report.”

Anakin couldn’t allow this to happen, to let Obi-Wan dismiss it as unimportant, meditate it away, make himself forget that foolish self-sacrifices and heartfelt confessions had even been there at all.

“Wait a moment, Master,” he said hastily. “I’m thirsty. Let’s have some tea? Alderaani Sunrise or whatever it’s called…”

Obi-Wan raised a surprised eyebrow but made no comment on Anakin’s unlikely choice. He was aware, without any doubt, of Anakin’s aversion to anything Alderaani, just like Anakin knew that this particular kind of tea was Obi-Wan’s favorite and always carried a couple of crumpled teabags in his pouch to brighten his Master’s day.

Obi-Wan hesitated for a long moment, enough to make Anakin’s heart clench in fear that his Master would run away.

“If you wish so…” Obi-Wan said at last, pursing his lips, and disappeared in the kitchen.

Anakin let out a breath he’d been holding. He could hear the other man open a cupboard and pour water. He didn’t have much time, but no smart ideas on what to tell Obi-Wan were coming to his mind. He just wanted to hold the other man and never let him go. Either the droids had messed up his brain or he simply wasn’t very smart.

Anakin sat up and lowered his legs on the floor, gesturing at the couch, and Obi-Wan sat down, careful not to jostle him, and handed him a steamy mug. Anakin watched him inhale steam rising from his own mug and take a sip with a little sigh of pleasure, relaxing slightly. Anakin drank his tea, too. It tasted too sophisticated for his liking and reminded him of the loathsome Prince of Alderaan with an annoying habit of quoting poetry to his Master, but he could think of that another time. Obi-Wan was enjoying himself a little at last, and that should be the focus determining his reality.

A few moments passed in silence which could have been comfortable if so many unsaid things weren’t hanging in the air.

“Don’t you think that this… _attachment_ …,” Anakin disliked the word, because the Jedi had made it sound like a vice, something to be ashamed of, while he could never find any shame in feeling this deep connection to Obi-Wan and knowing that it was mutual. “That it’s not a bad thing, actually? I mean, look at us, doesn’t it make us a good team – to quote Windu, ‘ _the most effective team in the history of the Jedi Order’_?”

“I believe Mace is well past this way of thinking by now,” Obi-Wan remarked with sarcasm that made Anakin huff a small laughter.

“I bet he is. But still… What do _you_ think?”

Obi-Wan put his mug on the low table, and the frown returned to his face, making him look like a stone monument to Jedi virtue. Anakin felt his Master withdraw into himself, and bit his lip. Maybe Anakin was wrong to start this conversation in the deranged state he was in. The outcome meant too much and his mind was still in a haze. This could be worse than piloting a ship intoxicated.

“I… don’t really know, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said in a hushed voice.

Any moment the other man could stand up and disappear, and everything would be lost, but Anakin had to risk it, so he pushed on carefully.

“What does your heart tell you?”

Obi-Wan turned away, and there was a long pause before he said quietly:

“They say heart is an unreliable adviser.”

“Isn’t there also a saying that the Force uses it to speak her true will?” Anakin insisted.

For a second, Obi-Wan remained frozen. Then their eyes met, and something shifted in Obi-Wan’s face, some unspoken and unnamed emotion spilling from his gaze, bright and warm like sunshine. He put a careful arm around Anakin.

Anakin snuggled into him immediately, heart racing stupidly in his chest. He lowered his head on Obi-Wan’s shoulder and nuzzled his neck. Obi-Wan was no longer a stone statue, melting into Anakin’s touch, burying his face in Anakin’s hair with a deep tormented sigh, finding Anakin’s hand and linking their fingers together. Anakin was waiting for him so speak, but for once the Negotiator seemed to be at a loss of words.

“Maybe this… attachment that we share simply defines who we are?” Anakin suggested quietly.

“And… who are we?”

_Former Master and Padawan. Friends. Soulmates. Partners_.

All of these words seemed quite right but none was enough. Anakin hesitated a little, brushing his thumb against the other man’s hand. The answer dawned on him, but he wasn’t sure how to put it into words. But maybe he didn’t have to. Today he was a drunk pilot, after all, and drunk pilots were prone to doing reckless things. His heart doing a crazy barrel roll, he raised his head level with Obi-Wan’s and brushed his lips against the other man’s. 

Obi-Wan stiffened. That moment was brief but enough for Anakin to start a spiraling fall into panic, maybe he had been wrong to trust his instincts this time, mistaking his own fervent wishes for reality, maybe Luminara’s drugs did addle his brain, and now he had ruined everything and was going to alienate Obi-Wan beyond any chance of bringing him back.

But before he crashed down in his uncontrollable fall, Obi-Wan was catching him, sliding his hand to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, kissing him with a shy restraint that was brimming with long-held yearning. What started as a simple brush of lips became a real kiss in a matter of seconds, like a stream smashing through a broken dam and becoming a flood, and the taste of Alderaani tea filling Anakin’s mouth no longer seemed unsavoury, quite the opposite, it was the most delicious one in the galaxy.

Anakin’s head was spinning. If he had to thank the Separatists for making him discover how Obi-Wan really felt about him, he would probably need to make sure to send a bunch of flowers to Serenno the first thing in the morning.

When they broke apart, Obi-Wan’s face was flushed like Anakin had never seen it before, and his eyes were full of sunshine. Anakin’s vision became blurry all of a sudden and he had to blink hard, aware of two hot tears rolling down his face.

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan said quickly in a fearful voice. “Have I…”

Anakin shook his head fervently and laughed. “Why didn’t we figure it out before?”

Even now he was a little afraid that Obi-Wan would say – _Figure out what, exactly?_ – and try to deny everything, but he was relieved to be wrong when Obi-Wan stroked his face and said wryly:

“I believe there is a saying better late than never.”

Anakin nodded, unable to look away from Obi-Wan’s lips. He had discovered they were warm and soft and the whiskers above them were coarse and ticklish, but he had to make sure he wasn’t wrong the first time. Actually, he could spend the rest of the night engaged in this exploration. And no, he wasn’t wrong. The second kiss was even better than the first one, passionate and slow. Anakin gasped when the tip of Obi-Wan’s tongue touched his for the first time. He was out of breath in a matter of seconds and the wild excitement that filled him to the core nearly made him pass out.

Obi-Wan sensed it and gently cupped his chin. “Probably we should get you to bed,” he said with concern. With a touch of his finger, Anakin tried to smooth the frown away from his Master’s face. He was dazed and exhausted like hell, but he definitely wasn’t going anywhere if could just stay there in Obi-Wan’s arms. Then he remembered with elation that his bed had been ruined by a most _fortunate_ droid mishap.

“Looks like I’ve got no bed for tonight, so let’s just stay here,” he said with a careless grin.

But Obi-Wan was already helping him on his feet, guiding him to Obi-Wan’s own room, saying something how Anakin needed rest and he himself was going to sleep on the couch. Anakin didn’t have the energy to protest, so he just buried his nose in Obi-Wan’s shoulder, breathing him in and dragging him down on the bed with him.

He was starting to realize that this was his lucky day, making the Jedi vultures change their mind, then getting Obi-Wan to admit to his feelings for him. It looked like he was the spoiled child of the Force, all he had to do was ask, and his wish would be granted. Maybe he really was the most powerful Force user in the galaxy and he could make planets go off orbit at his whim and have legions of worshippers do his bidding.

He chuckled at the thought. What he really wanted was much better. 

“That couch isn’t really comfortable,” Anakin remarked, catching and squeezing the hand that was straightening his – Obi-Wan’s – pillow. “It’s not like we’ve never shared a bed before.”

He looked at Obi-Wan through his eyelashes, watching the other man’s stern expression soften and recited a short prayer worshipping the grace of the Force. He was going to be with Obi-Wan all night, kissing and holding him like he’d always dreamed to but never believed he really would get a chance.

Obi-Wan spooned behind him, draping an arm across his chest protectively, and the closeness of his body send a thrill through Anakin. This was going to be a long night, and he was going to say and do so much. He was going to get Obi-Wan say _my dear Anakin_ to his conscious form. He was going to discover at last the taste of Obi-Wan’s freckled skin and commit it to his memory forever. He was going to make Obi-Wan feel loved and worshipped like he deserved.

“I love you, Obi-Wan,” he murmured and fell into a deep dreamless sleep.

*

“So what do you think?” Mace said impatiently, bringing Obi-Wan back from his reverie.

Apparently, the Jedi Master’s wish to send Obi-Wan to prison was replaced by an urge to discuss new tactics with him, and this urge had been great enough to start sending him messages at the break of dawn, making him crawl out of the bed and tiptoe out of the room where Anakin was sleeping peacefully.

Maybe he would still be asleep by the time Obi-Wan returned, and Obi-Wan would lie down next to him, cautious not to wake him up, and listen to him breathe, watch the color return to his cheeks and thank the Force eternally for giving him Anakin. Or maybe he would be already awake, and Obi-Wan would muster up enough courage to admit that he loved Anakin as well.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to risk so many men at once, Mace. Anakin and I can do it together. We make a pretty efficient team, as you know.”

Mace rolled his eyes and scowled at that.

“Tell me no more of that.”

Obi-Wan smiled, imagining how he would describe this little exchange to Anakin, and Anakin would make some funny remark in the excessively bold language of his, and they would both laugh, and the laughter would end up becoming a kiss.

Obi-Wan wasn’t a very good man, certainly flawed and not perfect, but he was without any doubt the happiest man in the universe.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by TCW Episode 4 Season 4


End file.
